THIRD PERSON'S POV
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"Where is she?"
"I don't know. I didn't see her the whole night."
"What about you, Ivy? Ivy?"
Ivy, like everyone else, was still in her pajamas—but she was sprawled on the couch, fast asleep, completely unaware of the conversation around her.
Donald stretched lazily and dropped onto the couch beside her.
"Where did you two go off to?" Renzo asked.
"Park…" Donald mumbled, already half-asleep again.
Renzo ignored him and glanced at the others.
"Maybe we're just overreacting?" Lily said.
"I hope so." Renzo's eyes flicked briefly to Ivy, just as she began slipping off the couch.
Before she could hit the floor, Donald caught her without even opening his eyes and pulled her closer, settling her against him.
That got everyone's attention.
Renzo raised a brow, looking between them. George just shrugged.
Donald was already asleep again.
Later
Donald woke slowly, still groggy, feeling a weight on his chest.
He looked down.
Ivy.
Still asleep.
He blinked, then glanced around the now-empty living room before checking the clock.
1:30 PM.
His gaze returned to her.
For a moment, he just watched.
Then came the urge—strong, unfamiliar.
He wanted to run his fingers through her hair.
He stopped himself.
His eyes traced her face instead—her slightly furrowed brows, her lashes, the slow rise and fall of her breathing.
Without thinking, he reached out and lightly smoothed the crease between her brows.
His gaze drifted lower.
Her nose.
Her lips.
Then her neck...
Clean and unmarked.
His tongue brushed against his canine unconsciously.
He froze.
"Dude… get a grip…"
He muttered under his breath and carefully shifted, trying to move away without waking her.
Instead,
He slipped and fell off the couch.
He winced, immediately looking back at her.
Still asleep.
"…Great."
He pushed himself up, started to walk away—then stopped.
Groaned.
Turned back.
"Damnit…"
He scooped her up carefully and carried her upstairs.
Inside her room, he placed her gently on the bed and pulled the covers over her.
He turned to leave.
Paused.
Turned back again.
He stepped closer, leaning slightly toward her neck.
And inhaled.
His eyes darkened.
"Mine—"
The word came out low, almost a growl.
He stiffened immediately after, like he hadn't meant to say it out loud.
For a brief second, something flickered across his expression—uncertainty, confusion.
Then it was gone.
He straightened abruptly and walked out before he could do anything else.
He entered his room and shut the door a little harder than necessary, startling George.
"What's wrong with you?"
"I confirmed it."
George sat up slightly. "And?"
Donald ran a hand through his hair, pacing.
"Why can't she feel anything? Or is she just hiding it? And I could barely sense a wolf. Is she even half? Renzo said she is, so where is it? And—"
"Hey, hey—one question at a time," George cut in. "She's half, sure. But maybe her human side is stronger. Or her wolf's dormant."
Donald paused.
"Dormant?"
"Yeah. Some don't fully awaken until eighteen. She's seventeen, right?"
"…Oh."
A beat.
Then—
"She frowns like a granny in menopause with the weight of her grandchildren's tantrums."
George stared at him. "You're unbelievable."
"So what now?" He asked.
Donald shrugged, already heading toward the bathroom.
"What do you mean? I'll mark her, obviously."
George frowned. "She doesn't even like you."
Donald smirked.
"So? Which girl can resist me? A few dates, a kiss—done."
George sighed as the bathroom door shut.
"This is going to end badly…"
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Two Months Later
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Life moved on.
The tournament cancellation still lingered in conversations, but routines returned.
Classes. Training. Missions.
And within George's group—subtle changes.
Zoe had grown more distant. Sharper. Colder.
Except with George.
Albert remained the same, always hovering around Lily, Fiona, and George.
But Nathan and Donald?
They paid more attention to Ivy now.
The group walked through the school halls.
Lily was animatedly talking Fiona and George through some problem, gesturing wildly.
Zoe walked ahead alone.
Albert had a book in hand, reading as he walked.
And behind them—
Donald was talking.
Ivy was enduring it.
Nathan followed quietly, watching.
"…and I'm telling you, we're basically the same person," Donald was saying.
"Donald," Ivy cut in flatly, "what exactly is your point?"
"My point?" He scoffed. "Kid, you're as dense as my dog."
"It's a one-year difference."
"You're still a kid to me."
Ivy gave him a look.
"Tragic."
He ignored that. "As I was saying—"
"I get it," she cut in again. "We have similarities. Congratulations. Now what?"
Donald tilted his head slightly.
"Go out with me."
"No. One time is enough."
"Then I'm not done talking."
Ivy stopped walking.
Turned to him slowly.
"You're exhausting."
"And you're avoiding the question."
"I answered the question."
"Bad answer."
She stared at him for a second… then just sighed and started walking faster.
"Where are you going?" he called after her.
"Away from you."
Nathan chuckled under his breath and peeled off toward his class.
Lily glanced back at Donald, shaking her head.
"Your pickup skills are definitely just myths."
She skipped off before he could respond.
Fiona followed, amused.
"Good luck with that."
Donald rolled his eyes, walking leisurely like he owned the place.
"Aren't you and Ivy in the same class?" Fiona stated dryly. "You're late."
He froze.
Checked his watch.
"…Oh hell—"
And took off running.